Catching sight of my numb, scraped heels, I let out a hollow laugh. A perfect union, indeed.

As I was lost in my thoughts, my phone finally got a signal, and it buzzed with a dozen encrypted messages from Lorenzo.

"Juliana, are you trying to start a war? I told you, my past with Scarlett is over. Did you have to humiliate me like that at our own wedding?"

His messages came one after another, each a stinging accusation. Not a shred of concern for me, not a single word of apology.

I didn't have the energy to deal with him and was about to silence my phone when an anonymous call from a family number came through. As soon as I answered, I heard Scarlett's voice.

"Lorenzo, Juliana will be upset if you just leave her like this. No matter what, she's still carrying the De Luca heir..."

Lorenzo's reply, however, was gentle. "Scarlett, you're too kind. She only got pregnant to force my father's hand. How could she, or that child, ever compare to you?"

The phone slipped from my hand, falling into the snow with a muffled thud.

That's right. How could I possibly compare to Scarlett?

Two months ago, while I was downstairs inspecting a newly arrived shipment of art, an enforcer from a rival family pushed me down the stairs. I landed hard, breaking my tailbone. When blood pooled beneath me, I was terrified and screamed for Lorenzo, who was about to leave.

But he just scolded me coldly, "Juliana, you're not a child. Call the family doctor yourself. Don't bother me, I have urgent business."

By the time the doctor arrived, I had passed out, on the verge of a miscarriage.

I spent a month recovering. Lorenzo never once appeared.

It wasn't until yesterday that I learned he'd rushed off because Scarlett had a nightmare and "needed" him.

Recalling that incident, my hands clenched the fabric of my wedding dress so tightly that I broke the nails I had specially manicured for the ceremony. The physical sting was nothing compared to the jagged edge of betrayal twisting in my heart.

I finally reached the main road at the foot of the mountain. Just as I managed to flag down a car, Lorenzo's call came through.

"Juliana, you've scared Scarlett into a nervous breakdown. Get your ass over here and apologize to her immediately!"

I clutched the phone, shielding the screen from the swirling snow, and told him I was still on the outskirts of the city.

Just then, the snowstorm turned into a hailstorm, ice pellets hammering against the car's roof.

Lorenzo heard the racket, and his tone sharpened with anxiety. "Is that hail? You're not at the manor? I'm on my way—"

Before he could finish, I heard Scarlett's pitiful crying in the background.

"It's all my fault, Lorenzo. I shouldn't have come back... If I had known this would happen, I should have just died in Dublin..."

Lorenzo immediately put the phone down to comfort her. When he spoke to me again, his voice was once again ice.

"Juliana, you have half an hour. Get to the clinic and apologize. Now."

The icy hostility in his voice sent a shiver down my spine, but it also extinguished the last ember of love I had for him.

"I'm not the one who needs to apologize, Lorenzo. Let's call off the engagement."

Lorenzo's breath hitched, but he quickly responded with a sneer, "The entire Chicago underworld knows you're carrying my child. If you leave me, what family would dare take in a woman pregnant with a De Luca heir?"

The swirling snow blurred my vision, or maybe it was the tears I refused to let fall.

I stood there, letting the wind howl and the hail beat down on me, but my mind was slowly clearing.

The car I had called for arrived, and I hung up.

Stroking my slightly rounded belly, I wiped the snow from my face and said to the driver, "Please take me to the underground clinic on Archer Avenue."

...

Lying on the cold operating table, for a fleeting second, I swore I could feel my baby's heartbeat, a tiny, frantic rhythm pleading with me not to abandon it.

I hesitated for a long, agonizing moment, but finally called Lorenzo.

"I'm at the clinic, Lorenzo. You—"

Lorenzo cut me off with a snort. "You're at the clinic? Good. Get over here and apologize to Scarlett. On your knees, this time. Don't even think about me forgiving you otherwise."

I swallowed the words on the tip of my tongue, hung up, and told the doctor to begin.

"Are you sure, miss?" the doctor asked softly. "The baby is very healthy. Perhaps you should talk to the father first?"

"There's no need. He doesn't care about this child."

...

After leaving the clinic, I returned to our penthouse apartment to pack my things. The space was cluttered with wedding gifts from various families, stark reminders of the ceremony that never was.

Clearly, Lorenzo hadn't been home. He wouldn't have let these monuments to our failed union sit here, mocking me.

Halfway through packing, my mother called. "Juliana, have you appeased Lorenzo? Has he forgiven you?"

Her voice was filled with anxiety and hope, but not a trace of concern for me.

I told her I was calling off the engagement.

After a brief silence, a tearful tirade came pouring through the phone. My mother told me not to be so willful—that to become Lorenzo's wife, I had to endure any humiliation, that it was my duty as a Rossi.

I swiped my thumb across the tear-streaked screen and ended the call.

After composing myself, I went to the De Luca family's art appraisal firm and submitted my resignation.

As I was leaving work, Lorenzo appeared. In the ten years we had been together, this was the first time he had ever waited for me.

I tried to stride past him, but he caught my arm and shoved me into his armored car.

"It was just a ceremony, Juliana. Was it really necessary to make such a scene? You're not a naive girl anymore. Why are you still threatening to call it off just to get my attention?"

Lorenzo took a lacquer box from the glove compartment and tossed it into my lap. I opened it to find an exquisite antique dagger, a traditional engagement gift.

"What's this?"

Lorenzo, who had already started driving, replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "Scarlett thought the other one lacked taste. She got rid of it for you and picked this one out herself."